His Voice
by CurlsAndCobblestones
Summary: What if Madellaine had not fled when she first saw Quasimodo? A story taking place in Disney's Hunchback of Notre Dame 2, in which Madellaine is captivated by the bell ringer of Notre Dame and his indescribable voice.


Hi there! This is my first story on this site, so I'd REALLY appreciate your patience and understanding as I get used to this format etc. :)I wrote this story simply to entertain myself and didn't plan on posting it, so please forgive any errors or pieces that don't make sense.

This story is loosely based on Disney's sequel to The Hunchback of Notre Dame. Madellaine has entered Quasimodo's tower and the two have playfully joked together, like in the movie, but they have not seen each other yet. She is startled by his voice and how lovely it is. (imagine when he sings to her for the first time! Swoon!)

This little drabble is a bit of a "what if she hadn't run away when she first saw him" story. I hope you enjoy!

Disclaimer: I do not own any of these characters, nor do I work for Disney.

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His voice still rang from beyond my line of sight. I began to fear that maybe he wasn't even a person at all, only a magnificent voice radiating from all corners of this exquisite room. Suddenly I needed for him to be standing next to me.

"Don't you want to come out, where I can see you?"

A pause.

"No". The magnificent voice had turned soft, and timid.

"Oh c'mon, what's there to be afraid of? I don't bite!"

"I- I know, but I- I can't-" He was babbling now, a trait I knew well from having it myself.

He must be shy, I thought.

Looking to our left I found the cause of the darkness that blanketed the area where he stood; a large cloth hanging over a wooden beam. Move this cloth away and the body of this wondrous voice would be revealed.

I did just that, turning for a moment away from him to slip the cloth to the floor, and the entire wall that I faced was flooded with light. Now, I could see a figure.

The first thing I noticed were his hands. They had shot up to cover the span of his face, before he whirled around to face completely away from me, though not before revealing a bright flash of blue from his eyes peeking between his fingers. I need to see more of these eyes, I thought. He cowered, hunched over in attempt to shield himself, as though he thought I would try to strike him. Tentatively I reached out a hand and set it gently on his shoulder. I flinched, but only because he did so first the moment I touched him. It was only then that I noticed he was not purposely hunched over, but that his back was simply shaped in such a way to form a hunch of its own. I paused a moment, processing this information and taking it in, then proceeded in turning him around fully to face me. Large hands still clamped over his eyes, I carefully took hold of them and uncovered his face. I moved slowly, feeling for any kind of resistance, but none came. His eyes opened, and then locked with my own. The bright blue was even more radiant than I had expected, brighter than even the sky I had taken note of when first arriving in the city. I blinked, and then my eyes adjusted to the rest of his face. The first moment was shocking, I admit. It was like nothing I had ever seen before; part of his forehead jutting out over his right eye, exceedingly large and misshapen nose, crooked mouth. But then I blinked once more, and was stuck again on the bright blue, all shock gone.

"See?" I said lightly, never breaking eye contact with this boy. "That's much better."

He just looked at me, and his expression changed into one of confusion. I could see now he was no boy, but a man; my age, probably even a bit older.

That wondrous voice which just moments ago had bounced beautifully around the room now found no words as I led him out of the corner and further into the light.

I realized now that he had probably expected me to be afraid, or stunned by confusion or terror at his appearance, as I slowly realized that my reaction must not be a common one.

Sweet, charming, imaginative. Those were the first thoughts I had of him, not ones of fear or disgust. A sharp feeling of cold spread in the pit of my stomach as I realized suddenly that no, I would not ever try to hurt this man. Sourche's threats fell away just as the cloth on the beam had, as I knew I would never let him make me harm the bell ringer of Notre Dame.

"What's your name?" I asked, looking as kindly as I could into his face.

"Qu- Quasimodo," he stumbled out, sounding ashamed. 'Half formed' is what I knew it meant, and my heart swelled even further.

"Well, I'm Madellaine. And it's very nice to meet you, Quasimodo," I replied, a small smile forming of its own accord.

His eyes widened slightly, and a grin began to grow on his face. I slipped a hand into one of his and we shook, his hand enveloping my own.

"Would you like to see what I had been looking at?" He asked, as though daring to be excited now.

I heard again the colorful orchestra of his voice, and paired with his glowing smile there was no way to refuse.

"I'd love that."

His smile was not a handsome one, but there was something so bright and pure that came from it that made it all the more special.

It was only when he turned to the small wooden flight of stairs behind us that we realized we had forgotten to release each other's hand. He bounded up the steps and to an opening between two tall parapets of stone, serving as a large window. I did my best to follow close behind him, but my breath caught in my throat when I reached the window. Out of it you could see for miles; with a view of the river, a portion of the busy town and their shops, and best of all, the square below where the festival was being set up. People skipped across the square hanging decorations all around in the fading daylight.

After a few moments of awed silence I managed, "It's beautiful."

"Yes, you are," he said softly. My jaw dropped open, but before I could do anything else besides widen my eyes to the size of dinner plates he was already stutteringly correcting himself.

"No! No, no wait- I meant yes it is! Not that you're not too, beautiful I mean- you are beautiful! Oh gosh, I'm sorry, I just meant-"

I giggled, and blushed in spite of myself.

My giggle interrupted his horrified babbling, and he froze for a moment as he realized that I was laughing with him, rather than at him. This realization turned his face to sunshine; a bright golden smile, now giggling with me as we turned back to the horizon and gazed contentedly out.

Though long minutes passed, it only felt like mere moments before I realized it was approaching nightfall, and in a haste I scampered to the stairs. Quasimodo quickly followed with a "Wait!" before I paused to explain that I should be back before nightfall, or else I could be in trouble. I descended the stairs quickly, his worried call floating above the sound of my footsteps-

"When will I see you again?"

From the bottom of the wooden stairs I turned and beamed at my new friend.

"We'll see each other again very soon."

His smile was not bright sunshine this time, but a pleasant sunset; lips curling into a soft grin that warmed my cheeks and made my heart drop into my stomach.

As I turned and made my way to the door I heard his voice once more-

"Goodnight, Madellaine."


End file.
